Chapter 72
In the evening, Abigail and Timothy bid farewell to Celestial Group’s director. After a full day of going over documents with Celestial Group’s director, Abigail’s head felt pounding.
“Let’s go grab dinner to celebrate,” Timothy said, fishing his car keys from his pocket with a cheerful grin.
Abigail didn’t decline.
At the restaurant, she followed him inside to find it bustling.
“Go and pick a table. I’ll be right there,” Timothy told her, heading toward the hostess stand.
Abigail found a window table and settled in, waiting for him patiently.
Timothy returned with a glass of passion fruit juice and set it in front of her. “This isn’t on the menu. I got it special for you as a reward.”
“Thanks,” Abigail said, taking a sip. It was surprisingly delicious.
As he sat down, Timothy pulled out his laptop to recap the day’s negotiation details while they waited for their order. Bored, Abigail turned to look outside.
A stray orange tabby cat was being photographed by passersby. Its comical pose – lying flat with squinted eyes, looking thoroughly unamused – only made it funnier. Abigail couldn’t help but smile.
Suddenly, her juice glass was snatched up and dumped over her face. Blinded by the liquid, she barely registered the attack before someone yanked her hair.
“You filthy slut! You’re the one seducing my husband?” a woman screamed. “Having a cozy dinner together. Let’s see how you like this!”
Abigail wiped her face, managing to focus on the middle-aged woman in front of her.
“Yvette, what the hell are you doing?!” Timothy dropped his laptop and lunged to pull the woman off.
At his bark, Yvette Newman’s eyes filled with tears. “What am I doing? I should ask you! You barely come home. You’ve been out with this tramp – shopping, dining, and God knows what else!”
“Just let go first. Let’s talk outside,” Timothy said through clenched teeth, struggling to keep his voice even.
Abigail could hear the hushed whispers all around.
One said, “Jesus, I thought this kind of drama only happened on TV. I never thought I’d see it in person.”
Another whispered, “Honestly, the other woman’s hot, but the guy’s hideous.”
A third said, “Mistresses only care about cash. They’d hook up with any rich men.”
The remarks were followed by sniggers.
Abigail’s body shook with rage. She wanted to scream, but when she scanned the crowd, she didn’t know who to confront.
Timothy’s face turned livid as he barked at the onlookers, “Shut your mouths. There’s no mistress here!”
Abigail tried to calm down, but her voice still trembled. “Mrs. Newman, let’s take this outside.”
Yvette yanked her hair harder and roared, “You had no shame playing home-wrecker, but now you’re acting innocent?”
“She’s a colleague! We were here…” Timothy’s face was red and pale with fury.
Yvette flinched at his tone and released Abigail’s hair.
Abigail wordlessly grabbed a stack of napkins and headed for the exit, wiping her face as she walked.
All around, people raised their phones to film.
Once outside, the cold wind hit her, and Abigail felt her eyes prickle with tears. She felt wronged, but beneath it all was a deep, heavy sense of powerlessness.
Behind her, Yvette and Timothy kept arguing nonstop.
Timothy roared, “Cheat? I was at work! What, am I not allowed to have young female coworkers? You see me having a work dinner with a woman and think I’m cheating?
“If you can’t take it, let’s get a divorce. Don’t come and make a scene while I’m out killing myself to earn money!”
Yvette snapped, “You expect me to buy that? You think I’d confront you without proof? You’ve got time to dine with her but no time to eat at home? You’re a fucking asshole!”
Abigail felt mentally and physically exhausted.
In the middle of their blazing row, a familiar voice broke in. “Abigail?” It was Jeremiah.
She turned to look and saw Sebastian, too, being escorted by a stylish woman loaded with shopping bags.
At that moment, Abigail wished she could vanish into the ground.
Sebastian’s gaze was casual, but the way he unabashedly sized her up made her flush with shame.